a horror story writing under 200 words
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The story ..
Mr. Oliver, an anglo Indian, teaches in a school fashioned in the true British aristocratic style, where the children of the affluent Indians studied. Unlike their counterparts in most other schools, they wore blazers, caps and ties. It was undoubtedly a premier institution, renowned far and wide. Some likened it to the famed British school Eton.
It was situated some three miles away from the small town Shimla Bazar. A thicket of pine trees stretched between the town and the school. At night, when wind blew, the darkness combined with the mild hustling of the tree leaves to create a feeling of mysterious unease among the locals. So, none dared to tread the road that passed through the forest.
Mr. Oliver was a bachelor. He had no such fear. He used to return to his quarters in the school compound late every night. Defying the caution of the locals, he, with a torch in hand, chose to walk through this forbidden road on his way from the bazaar to the school. It was his daily errand.
One evening, when the darkness had enveloped the whole area, he was walking along the lonely road that cut through the cluster of pine trees. His torch’s beam swung from side to side as he moved along.
His eyes fell on a boy seated on a tump. The boy seemed to be crying inconsolably, apparently stricken by intense grief. His body convulsed as he wept. He had a cap on his head that hid a good portion of his face.
Mr. Oliver was as curious as he was surprised to see a boy seated in such a lonely place in total darkness. His curiosity rose sharply, as he found that the boy was weeping so miserably. Mr. Oliver wanted to find out why the boy was there in the first place. The boy didn’t reply to Mr. Oliver’s questions. The latter approached the boy, removed his hand from the face, and peered at him. To his intense horror, he discovered that the head had no ears, no nose, and no mouth: it was just a ball of flesh. Mr. Oliver was awestruck. A chill ran through his spine.
He began to run with intense panic. Fortunately, there was a man walking at a short distance with a lamp in hand. Mr. Oliver approached him, hoping to unburden himself. The man inquired what made the Englishman so distraught. In a trembling voice, Mr. Oliver narrated what he had seen a little earlier – the featureless head that was just a sphere of flesh. The pedestrian nonchalantly exposed his own face, and asked if the boy’s head was similar to his. The man’s head also no nose, eyes or ears. A horrible wind blows and all light blows.
Mr Oliver was quite dead by fear
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